Page 122 of Can't Text This

“I’m sorry. Last Wednesday was my Wednesday to cover the late shift at the center. You knew that.”

“I knew that when you were just Robbie, the guy from Lola’s, not my boyfriend andfatherto one of my students.”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and I want to reach down and pull it out with my own, but I can’t.

“It’ll be okay, Monty.”

She shakes her head, trying to pull out of my grasp, but I don’t let her go. I can’t—not yet.

“How? How did we not talk about all this?”

“Well, to be fair, this all started out as just sex, nothing else.”

“But it evolved.”

“It did, but we were supposed to still be light and fluffy.” I pull her closer, wrapping my arm around her waist and bringing my lips to her ear. “You weren’t supposed to be so addicting.”

“Robbie…what does this mean?”

Our entire relationship so far flashes through my mind.

I met her in a bar. I fooled around with her on top of a bathroom counter. I had my fingers buried inside her sweet pussy. I charmed her via text for weeks, kissed her against a brick wall, had countless dirty dreams and cold showers with her in mind.

And then, I fucked her, again and again and again.

All over my apartment. All over hers.

I bent her over the couch, the bed, and though we swore we hated shower sex, I even had her in there.

She’s my son’s teacher, and I can’t keep my goddamn hands off her.

I blow out a heavy breath and step away from her, missing the contact as soon as she slips from my fingers.

“It means you’re my son’s teacher and we had sex—a lot of sex. We just committed to a relationshiplast night, and it means…” I rub at the back of my neck, the tension building and building. “It means things just got a whole lot more complicated.”

* * *

“Finally,I want to thank you all again for coming. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I look forward to working alongside you all this year.”

My heart swells with pride.

My girl did good.

Ha.My girl—I don’t know how much longer that will be true after the discovery we made tonight.

How did we miss that? How did we not even think to check? I’ve been so wrapped up in getting her naked that it didn’t even cross my mind to ask her what grade she taught. Besides, what were the chances anyway? How is it even possible that the random girl I met in a bar would turn out to be my son’s teacher?

One by one, the parents shake Monty’s hand, exchanging pleasantries and asking about a few things she didn’t address.

Then, it’s just me, Monty, and my son.

She eyes me from across the room and I can see the trepidation in her green gaze.

I’m scared too,I want to scream.

She crosses the room to stand in front of me, clasping her hands together, looking every bit like the teacher she is.

“Did you have any questions, Mr. Cross?”

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